too humid

trying to find coolness in the grass

 "Nature is no mere gathering of atoms but rather the outward form of God's imagination."

                                                           -  Sarah Clarkson, Reclaiming Quiet

We are hoping for a break in the humidity - they're talking of thunderstorms.

the ease of eternity

 "What grieves us most, O Lord, is playing without joy your beautiful music, you who move us from day to day. We grieve at being always at the practice phase and our efforts are labored and lacking in grace. We grieve that people see us as heavily burdened, serious and clumsy. We grieve at being unable to display in our corner of the world, in the midst of our toil and our fatigue, the ease of eternity."

                                                             -  Madeleine Delbrel

leisurely things

 "It was because Damerosehay did not change that in this chaotic, tumbling, terrifying world it was a place of such comfort."

                                                      -  from Elizabeth Goudge's The Herb of Grace (1948)

Last week I'd felt the urge to re-read The Bird in the Tree, and now I'm reading this one, the second in the set of three. When I came upon the above sentence, I realized that is why I read certain novels again and again. It's non-fiction that I tend to pick up "new". It seems to me that if a book speaks strongly or deeply to you, there is a reason for it, and it's up to you to pursue that. Get out of it everything you are supposed to, although that makes it sound so much like use, when it's really like a drinking more and more deeply of something nourishing. Hopefully, anyway.

The liturgical year turns and today we are in the feast of Corpus Christi. Our church sits right at a busy intersection, and when it's not raining we go outside after mass and process around the property, stopping at four altars set up along the way. Often it's hot out, and I find it hard to stand in the bright sun but today we are having a really strong wind (which is delightful, I think!) and partly cloudy conditions which kept things comfortable. But as for proper June temperatures - we just don't have them. It should be in the seventies, and it's not, nor is it going to be, according to the forecasts. But I realize I'm often complaining about the weather over here. (sorry)

I made a simple dinner of chicken thighs, marinated in plenty of lemon juice, olive oil, smoked paptrika, garlic, salt and pepper, and baked at a high temp till done. Which took longer than the recipe said, but I don't like slimy chicken. But it was easy, after not falling asleep until two, and getting home from church much later than usual. 

After seeing the rabbits often, lately I don't see them at all and I wonder if they've had babies. But there was one in my garden the other day, in one of the beds I'm not using at the moment, eating some weedy stuff. The garden is anything but neat, but if the creatures like it, perhaps it's not a weed

after coming out of the garden

"But Sally did not want to be set free for anything, for it was living itself that she enjoyed. She liked lighting a real fire of logs and fir-cones and toasting bread on an old-fashioned toaster. And she liked the lovely curve of an old staircase and the fun of running up and down it. ... It's my stupid brain, she said to herself. I like the leisurely things, and taking my time about them."

birdsong and sunshine

 "It was the glorified beauty of the familiar and habitable earth that she saw now, the trees and flowers and creatures that made up the sweetness of it, but soon she would see more. She would see the spirits of those she loved going about the purposes of God bathed in the light of His perpetual compassion...

one world inter-penetrates another; we live in them both, but... the language of the lesser is the language of dreams and birdsong, sunshine and the kindliness of man"

                                             -   Elizabeth Goudge, The Bird in the Tree

feast of the Holy Trinity

 Spirit of the Father and the Son,
ripen your fruits in our hearts:

Grant us patience and gentleness,
charity, joy, and peace.

- from Magnificat, May 2026

Well, last week was finally Pentecost, the end of the Easter season, and today is Trinity Sunday. It's very springlike, and pleasant out. Yesterday it was fifty five, wet, gusty and cold! Well, we'll be in June tomorrow, and done with that sort of thing, hopefully.

We had a nice Memorial Day and before that, a visit with an elderly aunt, my mother's remaining sister. She is ninety four, and doing as well as she can - still at home!

I finished the daffodil dress, except for the hem. I really like those sleeveless, a-line shifts for hot summer days at home, so I plan to make a couple more. I put the green blouse project aside when the heat rose - couldn't stand the thought of it. 

A beautiful Tasha Tudor book was dropped off at the library, in perfect condition; I took it home to read. 

Filled with quotes, poems, prose and everything romantic, I wouldn't put it in the children's section, even though it looks like all her wonderfully charming picture books for children - no, this one would go over the heads of the little ones. Apparently, if you have a toothache, you should kiss a donkey.

That was from Germany. But you're out of luck if you don't know anyone with a donkey, aren't you?

"In the Middle Ages they kissed the newborn baby three times 
in the name of the Holy Trinity."

-  Tasha Tudor

peace

 "What is the peace of the world? Perhaps we would call it security or safety; the sense that physical walls and human strength, burgeoning bank accounts and spending capacity, or healthy bodies and modern medicine make us powerful enough to enact and ensure peace for ourselves. When those things fail, when we ourselves crumble in illness or crisis, when a pandemic unravels society, the peace of the world is no longer something we may acquire because it was always something to be bought. And sooner or later, we will all find ourselves impoverished by suffering.

The peace given by Jesus is entirely a gift."

 

                                                                          -   Sarah Clarkson,  Reclaiming Quiet 

 

Peace I leave with you, My peace I give to you.

-  Jesus  

thinking cool

My brother just brought up the smaller air conditioner for the spare room. We used to bring it up in time for July 4th, but it's been 90 for two days, and will be up near a hundred for the next two - I'm living on ice tea. Meanwhile, parts of Wyoming are having twenty inches of snow.

daffodils all over

I cut out some quilting cotton for another sleeveless dress - of course, the heat wave will be gone by the time I complete it, but while this weather lasts, I can't think of anything but sleeveless. Meanwhile, because it's not August, the nights are cooler, at least. And the window fans come to the rescue.

I don't put them in "properly." I just stick the fan on the sill in front of the screen; it pulls the cooler air in just fine without all the fuss and fitting. 

waiting for the Holy Spirit

 May the Lord send forth the Spirit
and renew the face of the earth!
Amen.

Ascension Day

I dreamed about Dolly last night. She was outside, exploring; she was well! She was Dolly.

It was so good to see her. Make of that what you will.

We went to mass this morning - it is the Ascension of Jesus. forty days after Easter. I thought I'd make a nice dinner. I baked a small cake, coffee flavor with walnuts, no frosting. I then made a crustless quiche, with mushrooms and spinach - a little cheese. A romaine salad with blood oranges and a bit of yellow bell pepper, oil and vinegar dressing, and some chicken tenders marinated in a yogurt lemon herb mixture and baked.

In the afternoon, I sliced up the cake, which would have looked better cut up, and decided to have a piece. It was made with dates, and a little brown sugar. Well, it was so sweet - frankly, I couldn't stand it. I threw out the rest. I felt bad there was no dessert, not that my brother would notice, or mind. 

Meanwhile, I was catching up on some of Huw Richards' videos. He is focusing lately on perennial vegetables and he mentioned rhubarb; I have thought of rhubarb before, and would like to grow it, so I wrote it down. 

I no sooner wrote the word when my phone rang. It was a neighbor, Sally. I just baked a strawberry rhubarb pie, and wonder if you'd like some. Ah, ah!! I told her the story of my dessert disappointment, AND that I'd just written the word "rhubarb". Of all things! She brought it over and said she had put in less than half of the sugar in the recipe - it was just right. Thank you, dear Sally! 

Loving Father,

because of the Ascension of your Son
our human nature is now at home with you in heaven.
May this truth be our lasting encouragement and hope.
Through Christ our Lord. Amen.

The Ascension, by Rembrandt

little neighbors

 I went to Mass this morning in the city. The cathedral choir sang "If Ye Love Me" by Thomas Tallis. Just beautiful. 

This morning I opened the kitchen window - maybe it was seven? From the corner of my eye I saw something run into the drain pipe. I thought it was a bird, and waited for it to come out, but it didn't. I don't know why I thought of a bird - why would a bird go into a pipe? Anyway, I came back soon after, and there was a chipmunk.

Can you tell that he's sitting up inside the cracked opening of the pipe, his little skeletal hands holding the edge? These photos were all taken through the screen, by the way. That "stuff'" near him is debris that always seems near the opening. 

He would sit very still, no movement; if I made a noise or if he saw me, he'd scoot back inside the pipe. But not for long. A few times he came out to forage.

For a short while; he was being very cautious. When I left to go to church, Daisy was laying in the windowsill, watching him, tail flicking. And he seemed to be watching her, also.

It really seemed that he was looking up at her. So, contrary to what we usually do, I left the window open even thought I was going out. This was about ten fifteen. I was home at quarter to one, and he was still there!  But after the shadows lengthened, I noticed he was gone. Not a good place to live full-time, but we'll see if he comes back another morning.

Meanwhile, last weekend I finally saw a catbird. I didn't hear anything the first day, but surely the trip must be exhausting. It wasn't long before I heard their warbling. They always hang out in the forsythia outside my window, but I've never seen a nest in there, so I'm not sure what they're doing, but they always come back. How amazing the bird journeys are! These apparently fly down to Florida or Cuba.

If ye love me,
keep my commandments,
and I will pray the Father,
And he shall give you another comforter,
that he may abide with you for ever:
Even the spirit of truth.

John 14: 15-18

real life

 "The great thing, if one can, is to stop regarding all the unpleasant things as interruptions of one's 'own', or 'real' life. The truth is of course that what one calls the interruptions are precisely one's real life - the life God is sending one day by day; what one calls one's 'real life' is a phantom of one's own imagination."

                                                       -  C.S. Lewis

with the light burning at the back of my eyes

 We've had a lot of windy days lately, and today was one of them, but bright blue and clear. The temperatures are up and down, like they always are in spring. Too chilly for window-washing.

I have a piece of fabric for the dress bodice lining, but it's been put aside for a blouse I'm working on. What I would really like is to make something, to finish it! To wear it! 

Daisy turned four the other day, and I totally didn't notice it. No worries, neither did she. 

I'm re-reading Sarah Clarkson's Reclaiming Quiet:

"I hungered for quiet, not just the cessation of noise but that deep inward hush in which the kindness of God is the light burning at the back of our eyes so that we look upon the world in the brightness of his companionship."

blossoms everywhere

Perfect days like this make you forget the ones that went before - it was wonderful. Sunny, temperate, very breezy. I went out and wished I'd brought a camera because the pink cherry blossoms would flutter around in the wind, even into the back yard.

They are everywhere in the front, and all the way down the edges of the driveway - it looks like we've had a wedding here.

Meanwhile, the crabapple is fantastic - filled with white blossoms.

Once again, the birds never ate the fruit over the fall and winter, and I wasn't able to pick it with snow all around the tree, but that didn't get in the way of the blooming at all. I've always been partial to crabapple trees. When the cherry blooms, the leaves are there, too; the flowers are rosette-like - well, I've taken enough pictures of them over the years. But the crab blossoms take over the whole tree; there are leaves, but they're dwarfed by all the flowers. I also love the spreading habit of apple and crabapple trees. But don't tell the cherry - she's a brave one, and well-loved. 

the October storm of 2011 - she's never been the same since

kneaded long, to give you life

 Refrain:

I received the living God,
and my heart is full of joy.
I received the living God,
and my heart is full of joy.

1 Jesus said: "I am the Bread
Kneaded long to give you life;
You who will partake of me
Need not ever fear to die." [Refrain]

2 Jesus said: "I am the Way,
And my Father longs for you;
So I come to bring you home
To be one with him anew." [Refrain]

3 Jesus said: "I am the Truth;
If you follow close to me,
You will know me in your heart,
And my word shall make you free." [Refrain]

4 Jesus said: "I am the Life
Far from whom no thing can grow,
But receive this living bread,
And my Spirit you shall know." [Refrain]

random feelings of the heart

The purple-leafed plum was blooming a week ago, and it was exciting to see: the first blooming tree. Four days later, it was over! We did have cold weather last week, but maybe it's a short-lived thing anyway - we haven't had that tree long enough for me to remember it's blooming habits. But now the cherry trees are all pink with the crabapples right behind. The grass is emerald, and everything is lush and hopeful. 

I ripped the sleeves off the dress bodice, and detached it from the skirt. I took in the sides an inch. I think I want to make a lining, give it some substance. This may take a while.

Random feelings of the heart,
Ravings of a lone exile,
Stranger to the rules of art,
Let me robe in homely style.

-  James Kennedy, 18th century

"just live your ordinary life"

 "Whoever said that to speak about Christ and to spread his doctrine, you need to do anything unusual or remarkable? Just live your ordinary life; work at your job, trying to fulfill the duties of your state in life, doing your job, your professional work properly, improving, getting better each day. Be loyal; be understanding with others and demanding on yourself. Be mortified and cheerful. This will be your apostolate. Then, though you won't see why...you will find that people come to you. Then you can talk to them, quite simply and...about the sort of longings that everyone feels deep down in his soul, even though some people may not want to pay attention to them: they will come to understand them better, when they begin to look for God in earnest."

                                                                     -  St. Jose Maria Escriva

April Saturday

I tend to plan my blogging for the end of the day, but it often happens that I'm tired, or involved in something, or it's too late, or my mind just isn't there - anyway, I need a new routine.

My dress is slowly coming together - the bodice is sewn, the sleeves are on, the skirt is attached. It went over my head easily and I decided I wanted a higher bodice/skirt seam, so I've brought it up an inch. But I won't try it on until tonight - I don't always feel like putting my clothes on and off. I also noticed that the shoulder seams are too low; I mean that ideally, the bodice needs to be trimmed and the sleeves re-attached. I have also considered making two thin tucks along the top of each shoulder area to "bring in" the shoulder seam, without having to do it the long way.  I chose the bodice size which I thought would fit me, but it's big. That's okay, but how much will I have to take things in before I have a hard time pulling it over the head? Which is why I didn't line the bodice. I was going to, but realized there might be issues. So, I creep along.

It really looks like nothing! I'll try to get a close-up of the fabric. 

I saw a rabbit outside during the daytime - you've been waiting for me to say something about rabbits, haven't you?

Enjoying the light, the warmer air? Who knows; they are survivors.

a tranquil spirit

 "We must contain ourselves in patience, remembering each morning that our main job is to love God and to serve him and if we don't get things done due to interruptions, well, it cannot be helped, and God will take care of what we leave undone. But a tranquil spirit is important. Saint Teresa says that God cannot rest in an unquiet heart. I have to remember that many times during the day."

                                                               -  Dorothy Day, from Magnificat, April 2026

suddenly warm

 

a woodland themed towel from Debra!

I figure that normal temperatures for this time of year should be in the mid-fifties. Not this week, though! It is going to be in the eighties for a few days, so here we go, trying to get some more variety in the closet.

I finished my skirt, which is just an a-line with elastic waist - very basic. Now I want to make a dress with some thrifted fabric.

the Mr. Kibble statue holding down the pattern piece

It's a soft brushed cotton, a very small pine green and beige check. I was able to mark it with a piece of soap, since the colors were dark enough to show it up. 

Here's my inspiration, stolen off the internet from here

I cut out a bodice piece from a dress pattern I have, and sleeves from another. I'd like mine a little longer, like below the elbow. I've been trying to figure if I want to interline the bodice to give it more structure, or just line it. I think I'll just line it. I hope it will be something useful! One doesn't always know how a thing will come out, or how well it will fit. It is a bit girlish, but I hope that won't be a problem. 

by whose spirit

 God of everlasting mercy,
...increase, we pray,
the grace you have bestowed,
that all may grasp and rightly understand
at what font they have been washed, 
by whose Spirit they have been reborn,
by whose Blood they have been redeemed.
Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,
who lives and reigns with you
in the unity of the Holy Spirit, God,
for ever and ever.
Amen.

- Magnificat, April 2026

still Easter

 I hope everyone had a lovely Easter observance. Our orthodox friends will have it tomorrow. The season lasts until Pentecost - we have a nice, long way to go.

"But after pondering Christ's Passion, we will spend the rest of April and beyond rejoicing in the light of his Resurrection, learning to come alive in his life."

                                         -  Fr. Philip Nolan, from Magnificat, April 2026

with the dead hath been

 Love lives again,
That with the dead hath been.
Love is come again
Like wheat that springeth green...

Dierec Bouts

the strange, still day

Holy Saturday almost escapes us in the rush from Good Friday to Easter. What are we to make of this strange and silent day, thousands of years later and already knowing the outcome that tomorrow holds? Should we just focus on the festivities of Easter, only a few hours away? No, for Jesus did not pass instantaneously from death to the Resurrection, skipping over the loneliness and sadness that death introduces into our world. Thus, Holy Saturday consoles us, revealing that even the painful cold and deafening silence of death has been embraced by the Lord.

                                               -   from Magnificat, April 2026

"Holy Saturday is a strange, still day, hanging in an unresolved poise between the darkness of the day before and the light that is not yet with us."

This is ground zero, emptiness and space
With nothing left to say or think or do,
But look unflinching on the sacred face
That cannot move or change or look at you.

-  Malcolm Guite

Diego Velasquez

enough for everyone

Upon this wood his body bore
The nails, the taunts, the spear,
Till water flowed with blood to wash
The whole world free of fear. 

Giotto's Christ Crucified

the inner Jerusalem

 "There is an inner as well as an outer Jerusalem, and that therefore the events of Holy Week are both about Jesus' outward, visible and historical entry into Jerusalem and what he did there and then, and also about his entry into the inner Jerusalem, the 'seething holy city' as I have called it, of our own hearts. ...We have our own gates, walls and watchtowers, that somewhere within us there is both a temple and a seat of judgement, and both might need to be challenged and cleansed.

Can I invite Jesus into all of that? And if I do, what will happen?"

                                     -  from The Word in the Wilderness, by Malcolm Guite

sleeping with bears

 "I was never more at ease than when sleeping with the bears. They were entirely without odor, without bad breath even two hours after eating overripe carrion, and without any kind of vermin other than ticks which I removed every day anyway. Aside from a little rambunctious eagerness to play when we first went to bed, their nighttime manners were impeccable. Once they began to snore softly, they rarely moved until morning, at which time I received a regular nose nudging when it came time to crawl out for a visit to the otter coign. I cannot recall their ever having deliberately awakened me. My first waking sight of each morning was three pairs of shiny, brownish-yellow eyes staring silently and affectionately into my face. Instead of wagging a short tail as a dog would do, each bear engaged in a rapid tapping of the claws of both front feet. Rusty introduced the routine, and the other two took it up at once."

                                                                      -   The Bears and I, Robert Franklin Leslie

This book is wonderful.

believe

 "We say that we believe. And yet do we? At the slightest difficulty, we cry to God, and if he doesn't answer our prayer within the next five minutes or ten, or twenty-four hours, we begin to doubt. We need to get our heart in tune with God's heart. Because, you see, he's a lover, and he wants us to love him back. For this, he incarnated himself, lived as a man for a number of years, and died a martyr on a cross, all for me. And, by so doing, reconciled me with his Father. I believe that this is so.

When I believe, I am like a tree standing by the water, and I shall not be moved. Yet a tree can be hit by lightning. But for a man or a woman of faith, the lightning passes through them and doesn't touch them, because their faith is strong as God is strong. God doesn't abandon people.

You can say to me, Well, how do I get that kind of a faith? On your knees. (Maybe not literally on your knees, although kneeling can be a good position!) You ask for it. The God who has given you faith in baptism, when you died in Christ and resurrected in Christ, is not going to say 'no' to your request. If there is one request that he says 'yes' to all the time, always, it's a request to grow in faith.

Now and then we all feel tremors begin to shake our faith. Then we must ask God, implore him, beg him, to give us faith, to increase our faith."

                                                                   -    Catherine de Hueck Doherty

little systems

 I'm back to making bread; it seems, along with soup, a Lenten thing to have. 

Here's the recipe  The soup I made today was potato leek - so delicious! Here's the recipe, and I realized from reading this old post that I forgot the thyme. It was still good!

My skirt needs adjusting; it's too full, which would be pretty on some, but I like a little less of it.

Our little systems have their day;
They have their day and cease to be:
They are but broken lights of thee,
And thou, O Lord, art more than they.

-  Tennyson

bears, skirts and dinner

"On this mountain [God] will destroy the veil that veils all peoples, The web that is woven over all nations; he will destroy death forever. The Lord God will wipe away the tears from all faces; The reproach of his people he will remove from the whole earth; for the Lord has spoken."

                                                              -   Isaiah 25:7-9

Meanwhile, tomorrow is the feast of St. Patrick; I'm working, so we had the dinner today. The crockpot did much of the work.

The cabbage was in another pan.

I've been reading "The Bears and I" by Robert Franklin Leslie. Published in 1968, the author is a young man in the north woods of Canada. Are there any of these type of men left? Can someone live like that in this day and age?  Anyway, he has to "adopt" three motherless cubs, and he tells the story so well; it's a page-turner!  I had brought the book home for my mother years ago and it was such a favorite with her, I'd gotten her a copy to keep. After she died I ended up letting it go, as I figured I'd never read it, but at work last week it came across the desk and I was suddenly interested. It's hard to put down! Bears are more like us than I'd realized. If you like animal stories, I very much recommend it.

"A wild bear grows to maturity and stays healthy for his twenty-five or thirty years on a vigorous program of physical exercise and diet unparalleled for any animal of his weight. I've watched both black and grizzly bears swim across the lake three miles wide, then climb over a mountain on the other side when easy alternative routes were available to them. I have seen black bears gallop down a mountainside and ascend a 200-foot fir without even breaking their speed - climbing by throwing their arms and legs around the trunk like a pole-climber - until they were near the top of the tree."

                                                -  The Bears and I

I saw this image on pinterest and saved it. I've got a sweater this very color, although not a turtleneck and not cropped. But that's all right. I have black suede maryjanes and I could copy the look well enough. So I poked around online and found some quilting cotton that is almost exactly this pattern.

I made a casing for an elastic waist, put in wide pleats, and it is machine basted. If i hadn't been so busy with the corned beef dinner, I could have made more progress. But it's an easy design to make and won't take much longer.

"To a bear, loss of face represents genuine calamity. Within his local society, withdrawal from any struggle most generally incurs loss of pecking rights - the established wilderness protocol of who has the right to clobber whom."

                                                  -  from The Bears and I

love transforms

 O God, your love for the world transforms darkness into light, hatred into love,
 and persecution into peace through the gift of your only Son.
 Make us true disciples in every circumstance of daily life, through Christ our Lord.
 Amen.

-  from Magnificat, March 2026

darkness and light

 Well, the split in my thumb is healed, and I stitched up the opening on the chair cushion. It was awkward using the curved needle, but not painful! It was not digging into my finger!

As I said, I had barely enough to cover it, but it's attached now, and I will figure out a patch to go over that area. This is on the back part of the cushion, so it won't be glaringly obvious.

It was so dark and dreary today, the cats slept most of it - it actually snowed, which would normally mean nothing in mid-March after the winter we've had, except that two days ago it was up near eighty; it was sunny, and everyone's spirits were lifted by it. Yesterday was also nice, but here we are back again. However, there is greening going on outside -

Yes, it's coming. 

in morning sun, from a different day

"Saint John of the Cross says our souls are like windows. Divine light is always there, beating on the panes, but often the panes are dirty so that the light cannot penetrate. Our task is very simple - not always easy, mind you, but basically simple! We do not have to make the sun shine. We do not have to create our own suns. All we have to do is let the sun in, and we do this by cleaning our windows. When they are free from every stain, the pure light pours in. We become like the Mother of God, who 'has this one work to do / Let all God's glory through' (Gerard Manley Hopkins).

Then the window - which is still there - is all one with the light, and in its own way has become light and light-giving. What is needed is great generosity, selflessness, trust, and patience.

True holiness - and remind yourself of this over and over again - has to do with very ordinary things: courage, self-denial, love for others, truthfulness, kindness, contentment with what God sends, dutifulness.... In short, all that matters, anytime, anywhere, is a strong, resolute cleaving to God."

                                                              -  Sister Mary David Totah, O.S.B.

a divine economy

 "Most of us are under pressure, external and internal, to do everything, be good at everything, be accountable to everyone for everything! It is not so. In the divine economy each of us has a particular grace, gift and devotion. Finding out what that is, and learning how to be guilt-free about not doing everything else, may be part of what our Lenten journey is for."

                                       -  Malcolm Guite, The Word in the Wilderness

looking ahead

 We're in for some very springlike temperatures this week. The snow has greatly receded, the grass is showing itself, along with puddly places and mud. I can see my raised beds. But there are still high snow mounds here and there.

I've been working on re-covering a chair pad which sits on the rocking chair. Annie slashed it when she was little, and ever since I've kept things in the chair to discourage them from even thinking about it. But I had some corduroy - barely enough - to try and make it nice again. 

See the pins? That is where it doesn't quite reach enough to enclose the pad. I knew it would happen; I am hand-stitching it to the pad (and the previous cover, which is not removeable), and then I hope to take a long scrap to attach it like an applique over that section to cover it. Unless I decide to make a more obvious patch from another fabric scrap that grabs my fancy - we'll see. But stitching the edge the other day to the pad was very difficult, because the needle is straight and the pad is curved and stiff: it's comfortable to sit on, but not squishy, if you know what I mean. I actually have some curved needles, but they're very thick and more suitable for leather or whatever. I found some quilting ones on Amazon, though. That will make it much easier. (When my sore thumb gets over pushing that needle through two days ago!)

The "quilted" places didn't have buttons, they were just sewn, so I just sewed them, but then I had the thought to use embroidery floss to "tie" them as you sometimes do in quilting. I think that will look cute, and I can just go over those areas.

 And then I'll still have to keep the cats off it. 

a thirsty God

 Jewish and Christian traditions of spirituality speak of the Word of God as the living water whereby the spirit is cleansed and refreshed. A quick sip - an occasional prayer snatched from the jaws of a relentlessly busy world - is better than no water at all, but roots that grow deep draw the water of life by frequent prayer. This living water produces a healthy tree that gives fruit to all who come.

                                                               - Magnificat, March 2026

Vincenzo Catena, Christ and the Samaritan Woman

"We see God begging for a drink of water from a human being, and a sinful one at that.... Indeed, he is a thirsty God, a tired God, a God looking for the companionship and dialogue of one of his creatures. How could it be that God is needy? Christ the one who by nature has need of nothing outside himself has nonetheless voluntarily made himself needy, but only in order to communicate to us the life that is his. This action of making himself needy out of love may well be the greatest and most astounding work of his omnipotence."

                                                        -  Erasmo Leiva-Merikakis

transformation

 "Lent is a time of transformation. As we gaze into the dark faith of prayer upon the glory of God revealed in Jesus Christ, we are transformed into his likeness."

                                              -  Magnificat, March 2026

"Jesus took Peter, James, and John his brother, and led them up a high mountain by themselves. And he was transfigured before them; his face shone like the sun and his clothes became white as light."

                                            -  Matthew 17:1-2

becoming renewed

 The paths my brother plowed for the rabbits are getting wider, the grass in them is more visible. Water was running into the drains at the supermarket parking lot. It's been a little warmer. There will be more snow tomorrow, but I actually hung something out on the line today! It was very pleasant.

Breathe deep and be renewed by every breath,
Kinned to the keen east wind and cleansing air,
As though the blue itself were blowing through you.

- Malcolm Guite*

I bought some lamb and made Scotch broth today, and I had a very-belated revelation. I always buy the shoulder chops because that what I'm familiar with, and they're cheaper than other cuts. I bought two packages, and by the time I'd cut out all the bones and fat, what was left was a smaller amount than the pile of fat and bones. Is that economical? I had looked at the loin chop package, and noticed it seemed less fatty.  l will have to try that next time. I'm making lots of soups this Lent, and am using every good recipe I've got. It's just the thing for this time of year.

*from The Word in the Wilderness

it could have been worse

 At ten or eleven last night, visibility was low and snow was falling hard, but no wind. This morning the wind picked up, but the snow wasn't falling as vigorously. So, the heavy snowfall and the windy-ness didn't seem to happen at the same time. Is this a blizzard? I have seen worse, but I'm grateful it's past us and we didn't lose power.

I was reluctant to use the washer, in case we lost electricity while it was going; I was reluctant to cook any lengthy meals, in case things went black in the middle of it. So I rolled out a pie crust and baked it, then made a quiche later when things calmed down. The cats were very interested in the views outside. There is about a foot of it out there, including the four or so inches we began with. It really could have been much worse.

my brother in the street, to get a photo

turning aside

 The snow started around or right after seven thirty; it isn't a blizzard yet, but they're saying it's going to be. Right now it's just falling steadily but gently. We threw out some carrots, in case the rabbits came around before the snow, but they didn't.

However, I later realized the storm door was unlocked, and when I locked it, there was one at the head of the driveway, looking for sunflower seeds beneath the snow. There are plenty there. I watched him several minutes, when he suddenly zigzagged into the neighbor's yard, and there he sat, near a pile of brush near the shed. Meanwhile another appeared on the side of the forsythia and just quietly sat for five minutes until he, too, came to look for seed. Then we noticed a third near the feeder where the carrots are, so maybe they will get some after all. Because we will get at least a foot of heavy snow, at times with very low visibility and I have no idea how they manage or what they do in snowstorms.

But there had been a hawk outside a few days ago, so I'm glad to see all three of them, still our little neighbors. But, what do they do? What do squirrels do in blizzards, when the wind gusts to forty five miles per hour? Can they stay in the trees?

Now, they've all converged under the bird feeder, while the snow is only an inch or so deep. Fill up, little friends, because it may be a long while before your next meal!

While I was watching them, I thought of the poem by R.S. Thomas, which was the Lenten meditation for today in Malcolm Guite's The Word in the Wilderness:

"Life is not hurrying on to a receding future,
nor hankering after an imagined past.
It is the turning aside like Moses to the miracle of the lit bush."

Because I was standing there for a while; they weren't moving, so I didn't move, because I wanted to understand how they live.

But anyway, about the storm - we have plenty to eat, things to do and books to read. The town offices are already closed for tomorrow - my coworkers will have a day off.

I hope it won't be too bad.

The Bright Field

I have seen the sun break through
to illuminate a small field
for a while, and gone my way
and forgotten it. But that was the
pearl of great price, the one field that had
treasure in it. I realise* now
that I must give all that I have
to possess it. Life is not hurrying

on to a receding future, nor hankering after
an imagined past. It is the turning
aside like Moses to the miracle
of the lit bush, to a brightness
that seemed as transitory as your youth
once, but is the eternity that awaits you.

-  R.S. Thomas

*realize the way the English spell it, with an "s"

where we're meant to be

 "Life means the fullest possible give and take between the living creature and its environment: breathing, feeding, growing, changing. And spiritual life, which is profoundly organic, means the give and take, the willed correspondence of the little human spirit with the Infinite Spirit, here where it is; its feeding upon Him, its growth towards perfect union with Him, its response to His attraction and subtle pressure. That growth and that response may seem to us like a movement, a journey, in which by various unexpected and often unattractive paths, we are drawn almost in spite of ourselves - not as a result of our own over-anxious struggles - to the real end of our being, the place where we are ordained to be..."

                                                             -  Evelyn Underhill

Being, the essence of a spiritual life

 "When we life our eyes from the crowded by-pass to the eternal hills; then, how much the personal and practical things we have to deal with are enriched. What meaning and coherence come into our scattered lives. We mostly spend those lives conjugating three verbs: to Want, to Have, and to Do. Craving, clutching, and fussing, on the material, political, social, emotional, intellectual - even on the religious - plane, we are kept in perpetual unrest; forgetting that none of these verbs have any ultimate significance, except so far as they are transcended by and included in, the fundamental verb, to Be: and that Being, not wanting, having, and doing, is the essence of a spiritual life."

                                                 -  Evelyn Underhill,  Essential Writings

at home, yet a stranger

 I just finished In This House of Brede with an online group - an excellent story! So many characters, so many personalities and lots going on. I remember Diana Rigg being in the film version but don't think I've watched it, so that's what I'm going to do. I'll keep my expectations low, since I can't imagine the whole story fitting into a two-hour or less movie.

I discovered a mostly-done skirt in my fabric stash - it's an olive cotton knit, made up just like my gray knit skirt, and only needed an elastic for the waist. I finished it off, and it's waiting to be ironed. I tried taking a photo, but the right color is so hard to get! 

I've started looking at my gardening books, even though the snow on the ground is still a few inches deep. There was some rain today, which will melt things a little faster. I'm also looking at all the books I own with a critical eye - do I really need you? I have a cookbook with recipes for many pantry type foods, and I noticed a recipe for chocolate yogurt. I bought a gallon of the only pasteurized milk at the store (as opposed to ultra-pasteurized) and made some. It calls for very little sugar, but I have it with a bit of honey. As I was ladling it into the jars, I noticed it looked more chocolate-y at the end than the top. I was stirring it well the whole time, but milky things often stick to the bottom of the pot, and when they do, you don't want to scrape it when you stir in case it may turn up solids which aren't going to dissolve. So I stirred frequently but carefully,and more of the chocolate stayed near the bottom. 

It's Lent.

"To take the ashes is to confess kinship with this world of dust, to declare our readiness to abdicate pretensions to omnipotence. Standing before God in this way, I profess that I am not God. I admit the chasm that separates me from him. I accept the uncomfortable otherness of God. He is what I am not, yet my being bears his mark. I crave a completion no created thing can give. I walk this earth as yearning incarnate. I am at home, yet a stranger, homesick for a homeland I recall but have not seen."

-  Bishop Erik Varden, from Magnificat, February 2026

resisting the machine

Spring is definitely in the air! It's warmer, but not terribly; but the birds are singing, the daylight lasts longer, the paths my brother plowed for the rabbits are showing grass! Everything feels like it's coming alive. Under the surface, of course, except for the birds - they're the ones who show it.

I am almost finished reading Defending Middle Earth by Patrick Curry. I picked it up when it was dropped off at the library. I do not exaggerate when I say that not a day goes by when someone does not drop off books at their local library - at least, I assume it happens everywhere; it sure does where I work! And of course I have to look through them. 

Anyway, Mr. Curry defends the Lord of the Rings stories, and their focus on the simple enjoyments of home, community and nature. He tries to explain the popularity from different angles. I feel I should read it again, so I put a note in it to that effect. Anyway -

"Why can Tolkien's 'mythology' be described as universal? I have already shown that it embodies an attack on unchecked modernity in all its worst aspects, and presents a world of community, nature and spiritual values that successfully, albeit barely, struggles to survive such destruction. That world seems to be a different one, with strange people and places; yet at the same time, it is also recognizably ours. And because the processes of rampant modernization - economic, political, cultural - are now truly global, the potential appeal and relevance of Tolkien's attack and alternative are also effectively universal. This is a social and historical development; there is nothing necessarily mystical about it. 

But his universality comes about in another way, too. For the very terms of his critique are mythic; after all, that is ultimately the most (and perhaps even only) effective way to counter a worldview which is rigidly rationalistic and scientistic. And there is literally nowhere in the world without some native tradition of a mythical way of relating to the world in which it is alive and saturated with spiritual meaning - enchanted, in a word. Those traditions may be deeply buried, but - like the gods they embody - they can still be revived by recognition."

This book was published in 1997, and even back then he was speaking of "re-enchantment". There's a lot of talk about this: that, in a nutshell, we have lost the ability to take true delight in the world, and we need to re-enchant our way of seeing things, like they did in the Middle Ages. 

There is an article in Plough by Paul Kingsnorth about this very thing, speaking about his new book, Against the Machine: "Its modus operandi is the abolition of all borders, boundaries, categories, essences, and truths: the uprooting of all previous ways of living in the name of pure individualism and perfect subjectivity. Its endgame is the replacement of nature with technology, in order to facilitate total control over a totally human world."

According to Patrick Curry, the popularity of the Tolkien books shows that we really don't want a world like that, whether we realize it in this way or not. 

Brothers and sisters: We speak a wisdom to those who are mature, not a wisdom of this age, nor of the rulers of this age who are passing away. Rather, we speak God's wisdom, mysterious, hidden, which God predetermined before the ages for our glory, and which none of the rulers of this age knew; for, if they had known it, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory,,,, For the Spirit scrutinizes everything, even the depths of God.

 -  1 Corinthians 2:6-10 

crow on the shed

I laughed

 When I want to wash my face, I shut the bathroom door to keep Daisy out; she will come in when the faucet turns on and get in the way. Sometimes, I don't shut it, and then have to put her out of the room. Last night, rather late, I went in and didn't bother. Of course she came in. I didn't put her out, either, thinking what the heck. So I ran the water to let it heat up, and she was all over the sink. I soaped up my face, while she, below my hands, roamed around the edges, peering into the water. And I started laughing. It was entirely ridiculous, me, trying to get at the running water, and Daisy, oblivious to my purposes, trying to study the thing that fascinates her above all else. It was a good laugh.

beyond our limits

 "Faith... is a great cannon which hurls man out beyond the boundaries of the universe into the world of the infinite. It is not to be conceived of as something mild, sweetly enfeebling. Rather it must be thought of in terms of strength, of an explosion which has broken down the walls of the world, of a storming of nature by the hosts of heaven that man might be released from the limitations of his humanity. It grants to man the freedom by which he can surpass not only the limits of the present, of the past, of space, of material things, but even the limits of all nature. By it his mind walks into the limitlessness of God."

                                                                           -  Fr. Walter Farrell, from Magnificat, February 2026

keeping warm

 Snow was predicted last night and all day today, and by morning light, everything looked fresh. Then around eight, visibility dropped and the wind was blowing it all around - I wondered if they'd be wrong again about the amounts, but it must have been a squall; it settled back into a light snow and ended mid-afternoon. But it's cold, and windy.

We throw out timothy hay, cracked corn, carrots, peanuts. The mourning doves seemed to like the corn this afternoon. 

I'd bought two large plastic bins for organizing the Christmas things, and today I can say it's done - everything is sensibly arranged in the bins and a couple of shoe boxes. Much better than it was, and I feel light as a feather! I'm surprised at how relieved I feel to have that done. By using the bins, I got a lot out of the closet, consolidated a few smaller boxes, and things that I like to group together are stored together - like it should have been all along!

Daisy sitting under the corner cabinet to warm up near the heaters

Peter Wohlleben, who wrote The Hidden Life of Trees, also has written The Inner Life of Animals; I just finished it. I liked some parts better than others, but many things were interesting. Here, he explains why moths fly around lights:

"Moths... rely on the moon when they want to fly in a straight line. For example, when the moon is at its height and they want to fly west, all they have to do is keep the moon to their left. But little moths can't tell the difference between the moon and a cozy lamp adding a decorative touch to a garden at night. Now, as the tiny winged wanderer glides past the tulips and the roses, it immediately gets turned around. The brightest light at night must be the moon, mustn't it? And so it tries to keep this new moon to its left, but the lamp is unfortunately not 238,900 miles but only a few yards away. If the moth keeps flying in a straight line, the "moon" appears behind it, and it seems to the moth that it must have flown in a circle. And so the insect pilot corrects its course to the left to, as it thinks, continue flying straight ahead. This makes the "moon" appear on the correct side, but what's really happening is that the moth is flying in circles around the light. The spiraling flight takes the moth ever closer to the light until it finally end up at the center. If the artificial moon is a candle, there's a brief "puff", and the moth's life is snuffed out."

you're okay

 A grandfather brought in his little one to the library today - he was so good with her; he seemed to have a childlike quality of his own that I believe made it easy for him. One of the columns in the children’s department is decorated as a snowman, with hat, "carrot" nose, etc. She would pass by it and say "hi" very earnestly. She noticed the hat, and so he pointed out all the other parts to the snowman. Of course, I've heard many adults doing the same sort of thing with children, but the sense of wonder seemed more genuine in him - I guess that's a judgment on my part. Oh, well, maybe it is. 

And when it was time to go and she was screaming a little, he said, you're okay, you're okay,* and brought her back to the snowman. He distracted her gently by pointing out it's features. Without exasperation. This child is fortunate.

*I say this to Orphan Annie when she seems bothered by something.